


Scars to Your Beautiful

by LittlebutFiery



Category: Fullmetal Alchemist: Brotherhood & Manga
Genre: Emotional Hurt/Comfort, F/M, Post-Promised Day
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-01-27
Updated: 2018-01-27
Packaged: 2019-03-10 06:04:38
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,622
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13496330
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/LittlebutFiery/pseuds/LittlebutFiery
Summary: Riza Hawkeye’s body is a constellation of scars. Luckily, Roy Mustang has always liked gazing up at the stars.





	Scars to Your Beautiful

The sound of the apartment door opening and closing woke Roy Mustang from his unplanned catnap on the couch. He rubbed his eyes and looked at the clock – had he really slept for that long? It was already dark outside.

“You’re home late,” he called to Riza, who was taking off her boots by the door. “It’s already 2100 hours.”

“Yes, well, there was work to be done,” Riza replied, dutiful as always. “Fuery and I had surveillance to do. You should recall, _you_ assigned us that case.”

“Right,” Roy nodded, sitting up and pushing oil-black hair from his face. “I didn’t expect it to take that long.”

Riza was still bent over, untying a boot. She replied, “You should know things never work out as we plan them.”

Roy laughed. “I’ll say. I had planned to make dinner for you tonight, and then I fell asleep.”

Riza stood up, removing her hairclip and shaking her hair free as she did so. God, she was beautiful, Roy realized for third or fourth time today. He never could get over how beautiful his lieutenant – now his _live-in girlfriend_ , by some miraculous stroke of luck – was, even though he’d seen her nearly every day since he began his apprenticeship with her father so many years ago.

“Sir?” Riza asked. “You’re looking at me strangely.”

“Riza, how many times do I have to tell you…” Roy sighed, his oft-repeated rebuke falling easily from his lips.

“…it’s a force of habit, Roy. You know that,” Riza replied. “Now, I’m hungry. Are you going to make dinner, or are you going to sit there and stare at me?”

Roy smirked, getting up and walking towards Riza. He pulled her into his arms, her back to his stomach, his arms around her waist. He murmured into her ear, hands brushing gently up her sides, bringing her undershirt with them, “How about we order some Xingese food for dinner, and we have a bit of fun while we wait for it?”

“No,” Riza shook her head, pushing herself free from his grip and heading towards their room, tucking her shirt back in as she walked.

Roy blinked, stunned into silence by her point-blank refusal. He managed a weak, “O-okay,” as he trotted after her.

Riza had shut the door behind her – still the picture of modesty and propriety, despite everything – and when Roy put his hand to the knob to open it, it was locked. He called, “Riza? Can you open up?”

“Not until I’m done changing,” Riza’s voice replied, muffled through the heavy wooden door.

“It’s not like we haven’t seen each other do that before,” Roy said, amused.

“I said no, Roy. Stop pushing your luck,” Riza snapped.

Hayate, who had followed Roy, whined up at his master. Roy sighed, “I don’t know what I did, boy. Must’ve been bad.”

The colonel and the dog went to the apartment’s kitchenette, digging out the Xingese restaurant’s menu from amidst the random papers and ads Riza kept in one of the drawers.

Riza joined them a few minutes later, now in a pair of Roy’s workout pants and a high-necked sweatshirt. She opened her mouth to speak when Roy asked, “Did I do something, Riza?”

“What?” Riza asked, surprised.

“If I’ve learned a single thing from Havoc, it’s that men have an innate ability to piss off women without meaning to. If I did something…” Roy replied.

“It’s not all about you,” Riza scowled.

Roy sighed. “I don’t want to start a fight. I’m just…worried.”

“Nothing’s wrong, Roy,” Riza assured him with a small smile. “I’m just tired, that’s all.”

“You just haven’t seemed yourself since the Promised Day,” Roy went on, concerned. “It’s like you’re pulling away. Do you…not want me anymore?”

Riza looked at him, shocked. “Roy…how could you think that? I moved in with you, didn’t I? Of course I want you. I promised to follow you into hell itself, and I meant it.”

“Then why won’t you tell me what’s wrong?” Roy’s voice was heartbroken. “Riza, I know _something’s_ wrong. You’ve hardly wanted me to touch you for weeks.”

The lieutenant was quiet for a long time before turning and walking back into their bedroom without a word. Roy put his face in his hands.

How had he so catastrophically messed up? More importantly, why could he not figure out what he had done wrong? Riza Hawkeye was the one and only woman he’d ever loved. Why was it, then, that all he seemed to be good at was messing things up with her?

There were soft footsteps in the hallway and Riza’s voice said, “Roy.”

He didn’t turn to look at her, eyes squeezed tightly shut to fight off the tears that prickled in his eyes. She said again, voice gentler, “Roy, it’s okay.”

Slowly, wiping at the tears, Roy turned to face her.

Whatever he wasn’t expecting, it wasn’t what he saw.

Riza was standing before him in only her underthings, a plain black bra and panties. Roy could feel the blood rushing away from his brain as though he were still the teenage boy hopelessly infatuated with his teacher’s daughter.

Well, in some ways, he was.

“Riza, you don’t have to humor me,” Roy said. “I’m not complaining, but…”

“What do you see?” Riza asked.

Roy scanned up and down her perfect body – her fair skin, the freckles on her arms, her toned stomach and not-insubstantial chest…the faint blush in her cheeks, the quiet look on her face…

“The most beautiful woman in the world,” Roy replied honestly.

Riza burst into tears.

Confused but alarmed, he rushed to her, pulling her close to his chest. “Riza, whatever I said…I didn’t mean…I shouldn’t have…”

“Just stop talking,” Riza said, and he did.

She finally looked up at him, tears streaming from her beautiful brown eyes, and managed, “If I ever had the right to be called beautiful, I lost it on the Promised Day.”

“What the hell are you talking about?” Roy demanded.

Riza fiddled nervously with the necklace Roy had bought her for her birthday, unable or unwilling to answer.

Then he saw it.

Oh.

OH.

_OH._

“Are you talking about this?” Roy asked, brushing feather-light fingers over the deep red scar across her throat, the scar that intersected with one perpendicular to her shoulder.

“Roy, I’m talking about _all_ of this.”

She took a step back, hands shaking, and gestured to her whole body.

Roy took another look at her and finally saw what she was talking about, for the very first time.

A bullet wound there.

A long knife wound here.

The burn marks he knew existed on her back.

The thin scar on her shoulder.

The ugly red mark marring her delicate throat.

Riza’s body was a constellation of scars, dotted here and there with the wounds of war and a hard-fought battle for survival against the Homunculi. And she hated herself for it.

Worse, every single one of those wounds were Roy’s fault.

She’d taken that bullet for him _._

She’d protected him from the knife-wielding Ishvalan.

She’d begged him to burn her back, to destroy the horrible secrets of flame alchemy.

She’d been injured fighting the Homunculi beside him.

She’d been nearly murdered because of _him._

Roy took a step back, stomach heaving with guilt at realizing the massive toll he’d taken on Riza. She didn’t need to follow him to hell – she already had. He pressed a hand to his mouth, fighting the retching.

She clearly mistook his horror and shame at what he’d done as revulsion, backing away and hiding her face behind her bangs. “I understand, sir. I…wouldn’t want me either, looking like this. I don’t blame you.”

“How can you not?” Roy asked softly.

Riza looked up, startled, sparkling tears dripping from her face. “Roy?”

Roy cupped her cheeks in his hands, brushing the tears away with his thumbs. “Every one of your scars is from you saving my worthless ass. How can you not blame me for them?”

“I was just doing my duty,” Riza replied.

“No, you weren’t,” Roy said in a ghost of a whisper. “You’ve never just done your duty. Riza, everyone would have died a hundred times over if not for you. The Elrics, the team…me. I didn’t give you the codename of queen because you’re a woman, or because we’re together. I gave you that title because you’re the most dependable piece in chess. Without you…the king…all the other pieces…we’d all be lost.”

Riza’s tears began to fall again. Roy went on, voice hoarse with his own tears, “When I was blind, my one thought – my _only_ fear – was that I would never get to see you again. I would give anything for you to see yourself the way I see you.”

He paused, voice finally cracking with emotion, and said, “A long time ago, you promised me you’d follow me into hell. And you have. Now I’m going to make sure I never ask that of you again. Riza, I love you. More than anything in this world.”

She recoiled, surprised – neither of them had ever confessed their love aloud. When he saw her shock, Roy continued, “I love you, I love you, I love you. I almost lost you, and now I’m not afraid to say it anymore. You’re beautiful. You’re perfect. And I love you.”

Riza managed tearfully, “I love you too, Roy.”

He held her tight as they both cried.

When their tears slowed, Roy vowed, “You’ll never see yourself as anything less than perfect again.”

Despite herself, Riza smiled. “Is that an order, sir?”

“No,” Roy shook his head.

“It’s a promise.”


End file.
